


Beautiful Nightmare

by everlovingdeer



Series: Harry Potter Short Stories [97]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eventual Relationships, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Out of Character, Past Relationship(s), Possessive Tom Riddle, Reconciliation, Shared Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 15:56:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21255929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everlovingdeer/pseuds/everlovingdeer
Summary: “The chasm was already there,” I informed him, drawing away from him. “The moment you set foot in this school and changed, that was the moment I lost you.”And the moment you lost me.





	1. Beautiful Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> This was already posted to other sites on 06/11/17 and it's been edited a little before being posted here 
> 
> As always with the Tom stories - I had to make him OOC in order for this story to work

It had come as no surprise to the student body when we found out who had been chosen to lead us as our head boy. And yet, the news had had me shuffling uncomfortably in my seat. My heart sunk a little in my chest and despite my best efforts, my thoughts revolved around my own position as a prefect. When Tom had only been a prefect, it was easy to avoid him; we were rarely paired together for our rounds and when we were, I always miraculously managed to swap the shifts. It hadn’t taken a lot of effort; with a face like this, any girl was willing to switch rounds. 

But now, as the head boy, he was the one in charge of creating the patrol timetable and I wasn’t surprised that he had used it to his advantage. Tom had already tried to abuse the privilege when we returned to school for the Christmas term. But the moment his back had turned, I had spoken to the head girl and had my patrols changed. For someone as brilliant as he was, for someone who was so sure of how brilliant he was, he had a rather unfortunate habit of ignoring the obvious. 

And now, as I walked to the first prefect’s meeting of the term, I was already anticipating the new patrol timetable. Walking into the room where the meeting was always held, my eyes went to the front of the room where, sure enough, Tom was stood talking to the head girl. I had intended to snag a seat at the back of the room, planning to blend into the mass of prefects that were soon to enter. But before I could, he turned to look at me. 

Helga, he’d always had a knack for being able to find me. Especially when I didn’t want to be found. 

His eyes focused solely on me, in that intense way that suggested that everything else had faded away from his line of sight. And as if planning to approach me, he stepped away from the head girl. I bolted as if I really was a mouse facing up to a cat who was eyeing her for its next meal, practically running to the back of the classroom. Now seated, I watched from a safe distance as his eyes narrowed in anger. Lowering my head to avoid those furious eyes, I bade my time until the rest of the prefects entered the room. 

Following shortly, more and more prefects filed into the room, filling each of the seats. Tom, left with no opportunity to approach me, turned back to the front of the room, his eyes still glued to me, and I thanked Merlin from the bottom of my heart. Once everyone had arrived, he was forced to pull his eyes away from me to address the rest of the prefects. The meeting continued on without a hitch and as the schedules were passed around the room, I hurriedly looked over it. Scanning the paper with anxious eyes, I did a quick mental count of how many of our shifts he had managed to arrange for us to share. 

Far too many. How ever had he been allowed to organise so many of his patrols to match mine? There were only two shifts that he didn’t share with me. 

Distantly I listened as the head girl brought the meeting to an end with a final comment regarding appropriate conduct during rounds. My mind whirred; trying to come up with some sort of excuse to warrant changing my patrols without raising suspicion. And then I remembered the perfect one. 

Just like that, the relief began to course through my veins and it was suddenly _much _easier to breathe. 

Pleased that the meeting was over, the majority of the prefects hurried out of the room. But I stayed back a moment longer, waiting for the room to empty a little before I approached the head girl. With one more cautious glance towards Tom who was busy consulting the group of Slytherin prefects, I went to the head girl’s side. 

The older girl, seeing my approach, smiled welcomingly in my direction. Returning the smile with a genuine one, I glanced down at the schedule held at my side. 

“Burke,” she greeted cordially, “Can I help you with something?”

“About the time table,” I began hesitantly, biting my bottom lip. She nodded encouragingly and I carried on quickly. “Professor Sprout offered me a chance to act as his research assistant for the term and I accepted – it clashes with my rounds.”

Just last term Tom had scheduled our shifts together and they’d been too late in the night, hours past curfew. I had managed to use that to my benefit and had told the other female prefects that I was too scared to go around the castle that late in the night. Helga, who knew what was lurking around in those abandoned corridors? No one even attempted to question my flimsy excuse; they were all too willing to partner Tom Riddle. And now, he’d clearly tried his best to plan for that and had scheduled each of the patrols as early as possible. It was rather unlucky for him that I couldn’t make those either. 

She made a sound of understanding, reaching into her bag to pull out a quill. “Shall we just switch shift patterns then? That _is _a much easier solution than having to remake the entire schedule again.”

I tried my very best not to grin; the head girl didn’t share a single patrol with Tom. Leaning on the desk, the head girl made a quick note of out swapped shifts and when she straightened up again, I smiled warmly at her. She had no idea how grateful I currently felt towards her. 

“Thank you,” I said, my relief evident.

“No need to thank me.” Waving away my words, she assured me, “After all, it _is _what I’m here for.”

Pleased that I had managed to, once again, avoid patrolling with Tom, I turned to leave. Except, the tall Slytherin was standing _right _behind me. Catching myself before I bumped into him, I wondered just how much of our conversation he had managed to overhear. Meeting his eyes cautiously, I wasn’t sure how to react to his cool gaze. He looked _too _calm – a false expression if there ever was one. He kept his façade of casual detachment, hiding whatever was bubbling under the surface from my gaze.

“Is there a problem?” he asked, looking to the head girl who had taken to glancing strangely between the pair of us.

“Only a small one,” she assured him. “We’ve had to switch shifts.”

He looked back to me then, the false expression fleeing from his eyes and showing me the fury hidden deep beneath his pristine surface. His eyes were aflame, and I struggled not to burn with them. “Oh, really?”

“It was impossible for me to make them,” I explained unnecessarily, moving to brush past him. “They clash with something I’ve got on.”

I edged past him, walking out of the room and I wasn’t surprised when he followed a short distance after me. He trailed me until we were out of the practically empty classroom and away from the head girl’s watching eyes. He caught my arm, pulling me forcefully back towards him and I struggled slightly in his hold. Futilely I tried to pull my arm back from him, but he held on firmly. 

“What?” he demanded, trying so very hard to maintain the very flimsy control he had over himself. He knew all too well how I’d react to his anger, to the flash of red that was bound to overtake his eyes. He’d seen it first hand before and witnessing the backlash to it, bearing the curse I’d thrown his way in an attempt to escape him. He tried his best to shield those eyes from me now. “What does it clash with this time, Burke?”

“I don’t quite see how it’s any of your business,” I spoke firmly, narrowing my eyes at him. “But if you must know – I have accepted an offer from Slughorn to act as his research assistant for the term. Our arranged meeting time clashes with the same time you scheduled my – sorry our patrols for.”

His hold on my arm tightened slightly as his anger began to get the better of him. The red slowly made its way into the outer parts of his iris and I felt my heart stutter in fear. Why was it that I could stare into his face, witness the true extent of his anger and feel no fear whatsoever? But the moment that red made its way towards his irises, that was when the fear slowly enveloped me. 

“Is there a problem?” The question, asked from behind the pair of us, was enough for the red to flee his eyes. Now that we had company, he needed to go back to hiding his true nature. Lying in wait until the next moment we were alone. And Helga, I’d go to any lengths to make sure I was never left alone with him again.

Tom released my arm, turning to face the seventh year Hufflepuff prefect who had just exited the room. The two seventh year males eyed each other for a moment longer before my housemate approached us. 

“Are you alright, Burke?” 

“I’m fine, Macmillan,” I assured the older boy, daring not to look in Tom’s general direction.

“Come on then, I’ll walk you back to the common room.”

The pair of us walked away, leaving the head boy standing alone in the now empty corridor. I didn’t need to look back at Tom to know that he’d have his wand held at his side, clenched tight between knuckles that had turned white from his grip. Even as a child he’d been easy to anger. As he aged it had only grown worse. 

* * *

As I made my way to my first lesson of the day, Charms, it was just another normal day. But my friends, walking on either side of me, were trying to involve me in a very abnormal conversation. They were insistent that on their way to the great hall this morning, they had the utmost _pleasure _of walking behind Tom and his ‘friends’. It took a colossal amount of restraint not to scoff and announce that Tom didn’t have friends, he had _followers. _But I kept that to myself and tried to sound interested as they went on to tell me that he was talking – about _me. _And what an ‘honour’ that was. 

“He was asking if Avery had any idea what N.E.W.T.s you were taking,” Zoe confessed, nudging me teasingly with her arm.

“And pray tell,” I said, rolling my eyes, “why is he under the impression that _Avery, _of all people, knows which N.E.W.T.s I’m taking, Beltran?”

“Well how am _I _going to know?” she demanded, growing defensive when she heard the tone I’d taken.

“Maybe he wants to tutor you,” Annie suggested quickly, in an attempt to tide over the brewing disagreement that always occurred whenever Zoe started to speak about Tom to me.

Helga, I couldn’t stand the admiration in her voice; she had no idea what he was _really _like! If she knew, if _anyone _knew, then there’d be no admiration for him. At least, not from any respectable person.

I didn’t bother to answer verbally, making a face that was enough. Unfortunately for me, they’d picked up on it and decided that this was the right moment to question me on my blatant dislike for our _esteemed _head boy. 

“What is this problem you have with him?” Annie asked, much more patiently than Zoe would have asked. “You never gave us a reason for why you don’t like him. He’s perfect; _handsome, _smart, a downright gentleman and –”

I zoned out a little as the pair of them listed each of Tom’s _virtues. _Merlin, I wanted to sneer. If she wanted a reason so badly; I’d give her a _list_. Except, I wouldn’t. They’d think me mad and on some deep level, I was doing my best to protect him. 

Goodness, I was hopeless. 

Instead, I asked, “Do I need a reason, Lang?”

“I just don’t understand,” Zoe lamented, as we approached the classroom. “He seems to show so much interest in you and you don’t bother to return _any _of it. He’s a perfect gentleman.”

“Only when it suits him,” I muttered under my breath, walking into the classroom.

The pair of them continued to pester me, following me into the room. Approaching my desk, I set my bags down and turned to the pair of them with narrowed eyes. 

“If you must know, there was a time when I liked him but now, I don’t. It’s as simple as that.”

“Well, what happened?” Zoe probed, and I didn’t bother answering her, not even when the pair of them shared a look before heading to their own assigned seats. 

The answer to her question was a simple one; he’d changed until I couldn’t recognise him anymore. 

His first year at Hogwarts, his first year away from the orphanage, away from me, had him changing. When he returned from school that summer he had treated me so differently to how he’d done before. He’d treated me _horrendously, _like mud beneath his shoes because he was so very sure that I was a muggle and then he learned I wasn’t. _I _learned that I wasn’t a muggle. In fact, I was the last remaining member of a family that belonged to the Sacred Twenty-Eight – whatever _that _rubbish was. 

He hadn’t known how to behave after finding out the truth, _I _hadn’t known how to behave. But he’d come to decide that because I was _magical _we could simply look past the atrocious way he’d treated me and just get back to the way we were. Except we couldn’t; I had too much pride for that. 

And years later, that simple flash of red, the truth of what he’d done to his biological family, to poor Myrtle, and to Hagrid had shaken me to my very core. He had always been honest with me, even when I wished he’d hold certain things back from me. He’d always had the terrible habit of never listening to what I’d wanted. It was always what _he _wanted and that was what he was focusing on even now. 

Sudden chatter started up in the classroom, bringing me from my thoughts and making me look up. And there he was; standing at the front of the classroom beside the teacher’s desk. He smiled charmingly at out professor, looking the right degree of sincerely apologetic. Too bad it was a fake smile, nothing like his real one. That smile, I hadn’t seen in _years. _

“Sorry to disturb your lesson professor,” he said as I began to fiddle with my quill, looking down at the table. “I’ve just come to deliver something to one of your students.”

“The lesson hasn’t begun yet,” my professor said, “but be quick Tom.”

Whispered words followed Tom as he walked through the room and I continued to keep my head down, only looking up when a book was placed on the desk beside my ink well. Helga, I thought screwing my eyes shut for a moment. 

Raising my eyes to meet his waiting ones, I raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

“Delivering something, clearly,” he said as if it was obvious and honestly, it really was. He gestured to the book, pushing it towards me. “Professor Slughorn wanted you to look over a potion before the next meeting. He’s bookmarked the pages for you.”

“How do you know that?” I asked quietly, taking the book but keeping my eyes on him. 

The corner of his mouth pulled up into a signature smirk as he leaned in towards me, bringing his mouth beside my ear as he whispered, “Don’t keep me waiting long.”

Drawing back from me, he walked out of the room, acting unaware of all the gossip he’d caused. Burrowing my head in my hands, I let out a deep breath when I felt the number of eyes fixed onto me. He was always causing so much trouble for me. 

* * *

When my first scheduled meeting with Slughorn arrived, I made sure to turn up a little earlier at his classroom. I knocked on the door and when there was a vague response, I pushed it open slightly. 

Popping my head around the door, I called out quietly, “Professor?”

Slughorn was standing behind his desk, flicking through his paperwork. He looked up at the sound of my voice, smiling instantly and gesturing for me to walk into the room as he filed the last of his work.

“Come in, come in Miss Burke,” he spoke with a smile, coming around from behind his desk to greet me. “I trust you’ve read over the pages I’d assigned?”

“I have, professor,” I assured him with a smile, walking into the classroom and setting my bag down on top of one of the tables. “It was really interesting, and I know you’ve already got a basic recipe for the potion that you wish to make, and that we’re just trying to find the right quantity of the ingredients. But what if –”

There was a knock on the door that brought silence to the room. We both looked to the door which slowly opened, and Tom stepped into the room, shutting it behind him. 

“Sorry I’m late professor,” he apologised, turning to the older man. Both men completely missed the way my entire face fell in horror, my heart suddenly beating erratically in my chest. What was he doing here? Wasn’t he supposed to be patrolling right now? The schedule – 

“No problem, dear boy,” Slughorn assured Tom as he walked to his side and led him further into the room, towards me. Tom greeted me silently with a smirk and I let out a sharp breath. “You haven’t missed a thing; we’ve yet to begin.”

Walking away from us, Slughorn returned to his desk and began to look for something, leaving us with a few minutes to occupy ourselves. Turning away from the Slytherin stood beside me, I rifled through my bag to retrieve the book Slughorn had wanted me to read. Finding the right page, I tried to read them over again, but I couldn’t focus on the written words. Instead, all my attention was pinpointed on the silent man stood beside me, his hands tucked into his trouser pockets and his body orientated towards my own.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded with a sharp whisper, snapping the book shut and putting it back in my bag. 

“So you _are _planning on speaking to me then,” he said coolly, both eyebrows raised as he turned his head towards mine. “I was under the impression that you’d ignore me like a child.”

“Are you going to answer the question or not?”

Tom shrugged, leaning back against the desk as he considered me for a long moment. “Slughorn was always after two research assistants.”

“Don’t be ridiculous –”

“He asked me at the end of last year – _long _before he asked you, Burke.”

“Am I supposed to feel jealous or something?” I asked bluntly, rolling my eyes. 

“I’ve missed your sharp tongue,” he said, a smirk pulling at his lips even as his eyes found themselves drawn to my lips.

“_Tom!” _ I hissed, knowing exactly what he was remembering. 

“Like I said, Slughorn offered me the job last year but I didn’t have a reason to take it. But I’ve had a change of heart.”

“Imagine that,” I muttered dryly, only then realising that at some point he had managed to move closer to me without my noticing. I instantly moved away from him, trying to put some more space between us. Tom picked up on the action, narrowing his eyes and looking like he wanted to say something.

But before he could, Slughorn called us over to join his side. Grasping the opportunity, I hurried to Slughorn who handed out a copy of his original recipe to the pair of us. 

“Now, Miss Burke,” he said, as I looked over the recipe. “What was your earlier thought?”

“I was wondering if perhaps it would be possible to swap out the Beetle eye for an equal amount of Flobberworm mucus? They’ll both act in essentially the same manner once they’ve been added to the potion, but the Flobberworm mucus will make the potion store longer?” I trailed off, noticing the way both Slytherins were looking at me. 

“Excellent suggestion,” Slughorn said, beaming. “However –”

“When the Flobberworm mucus reacts with the Neem oil within the potion, it’ll become unstable,” Tom interjected from my side, reaching out to point to the Neem oil listed on the recipe I was holding and using it as an excuse to encroach in my personal space. 

“Remarkable memory Tom,” Slughorn complemented although the boy in question didn’t bother to pay the older man any attention. Instead, he watched the way I raised an eyebrow. The corner of his mouth tugged upwards as if repressing the urge to smile. 

“Not if you swap the Neem oil for some hand crushed Moonseed,” I shot back.

Tom rolled his eyes. “That’ll take too long to crush a large enough quantity of Moonseed.”

“And you’d rather risk the quality of a potion because of the amount of _work _it could take to make?” I questioned, meeting his eyes. 

Slughorn, sensing the brewing argument, stepped in to calm us down. He suggested that we started on crushing the Moonseed because surely, with the three of us present it wouldn’t take long at all and I counted that as a personal victory before getting to work. Assembling a batch of the altered potion, we left the cauldron to bubble away at the back of the classroom for the next 24 hours. Professor Slughorn thanked us for our help, reminding us to return to his classroom tomorrow before dismissing us. 

Washing my hands of the last of the potion’s residue, I went to gather my bag and hurried out of the classroom. Merlin, the entire time my eyes had flickered, rather annoyingly, towards the handsome seventh year as he stood across from me. He’d catch me every time, looking up from his mortar and pestle to meet my eyes with a smirk. I just needed to leave him _far _behind me; anytime I spent a long time in his company I found myself forgetting what he’d done and remembering who he’d been many years ago. 

“Miss Burke,” he called out from behind me and I pretended not to hear him. He made an irritated sound, speeding up slightly until he could reach my side. He took my arm, forcibly bringing me to a halt and I met his eyes cautiously. “Allow me to walk you back to your common room.”

“There’s no need,” I insisted, trying to pull my arm from his hold.

“Why?” he asked and we both knew he wasn’t referring to my refusal of his offer. He was talking about so much more. 

I looked to his hand on my arm, at the ring on his finger and thought about what it really was. Ugly magic, _dark _magic. The kind of magic that stained your soul, _split _it. Just how fractured had he made his soul?

“So many reasons,” I said quietly, my remembrance of his evil deeds sobering me greatly. 

“And what is exactly is so wrong about what I’ve done?” he demanded angrily, shaking my arm slightly.

“That’s the worst part,” I said quietly, shaking my head and bringing my eyes to his. “You don’t know what’s wrong with what you’ve done and without that, how can you feel any remorse? _Do _you feel remorse?”

He thought carefully for a moment, dropping my arm know that he was satisfied that I wasn’t going anywhere, not until I heard his answer, anyway. 

“The only remorse I feel is for the chasm formed between us,” he answered slowly, “for the way the way that sharing my knowledge with you pushed us apart.”

“The chasm was already there,” I informed him, drawing away from him. “The moment you set foot in this school and changed, that was the moment I lost you.”

_And the moment you lost me. _

When I hurried away from him this time, he made no attempt to chase after me. 

* * *

The next day I returned to Slughorn’s classroom and expected to be greeted by my professor’s warm smile. Instead I was greeted by Tom who was already working at one of the desks, with a large bowl of crushed Moonseed beside him. My eyes scanned the classroom, looking for the missing professor and when I saw no signs of him, I looked back to the waiting boy. 

“He’s not coming today,” he answered my unasked question, pausing in his work to watch as I hovered slightly by the door. “He’s meeting an ex-student of his. Apparently, the potion yesterday was _almost _perfect, but he wants us to double the quantity of Moonseed this time with an equal amount of Flobberworm mucus.”

I nodded, setting my bag aside and coming to his side to begin working. He continued to watch me as I approached his side, clearly not having expected me to do so voluntarily. Reaching for another mortar and pestle, I set about crushing the Moonseed. 

“How can he just trust us and leave us unsupervised?” I asked in an attempt to draw his attention away from me. 

It didn’t work very well. But he eventually looked back down to his mortar and pestle, and set about working again “He trusts that he can leave us unsupervised because I’m the head boy.”

“Well appearances are known to be deceptive,” I muttered under my breath. 

“That they are,” he agreed wholeheartedly. “Anyone would look at you and see a prim and proper pureblood princess. Not a witch raised in a muggle orphanage.”

Tightening my hold on the pestle, I ground out, “I’ve never made a fuss about my blood status. That was you.”

“My first mistake,” he agreed after a moment, voice quiet and I looked at him in surprise.

Since when had he been the sort of person who could accept his flaws so quickly? He _wasn’t _this sort of person so what in Merlin’s name was he playing at? I didn’t contest his words; why would I when they were the truth? Instead, I worked in silence beside him, determined that I wouldn’t speak to him again. No matter how many attempts he made to remind me of the deep history we shared. 

He stepped away from my side to turn the cauldron on, adding the ingredients without even glancing at the recipe placed beside the cauldron on the table. His back was to me as he asked, “Do you remember the time we tried to sneak out of our rooms because you wanted to see the stars one night?”

Of course, I did; he’d taken the entire blame.

Picking up the large bowl of freshly crushed Moonseed, I headed towards him. My eyes were riveted to his back as though I could see through the white of his shirt. 

“Did they scar? The lashings?” I asked softly, unable to help myself. It was a question I’d wanted to ask since that night. But whenever I’d mentioned it, he’d always shut me off. 

His back stiffened in a way that suggested it had. But he didn’t answer my question and instead turned to take the bowl from my hands. He motioned for me to stir the potion as he tipped the Moonseed into the bubbling cauldron.

“Counterclockwise,” he reminded me.

“I’m sorry,” I apologised quietly, not knowing what else to say. “I should have spoken up and –”

He looked up suddenly, eyes meeting mine as he reminded me, “I didn’t let you. I wasn’t going to let you take the lashings.”

“She wouldn’t have hit me as hard,” I insisted, looking to the cauldron when his eyes grew too intense. “Don’t you remember? She made sure to never scar the girls because who would want to marry a ‘disfigured’ girl?”

“I would have,” he murmured, setting the empty bowl on the table.

I laughed, the sound false even to my ears. “6 years ago and those words would have made my day.” Done stirring the potion, I pushed away from the table to return to the one we had previously occupied and set about clearing it up.

“And now?” he asked from behind me. “What about now?”

“Now?” I halted slightly in my movements. “Now it seems like another front you’re using to hide the real you.”

“I’ve _never _hidden a thing from you,” he swore firmly, the sound of his voice growing closer.

I moved away from him before he could crowd me against the table like he so clearly wished to do. “Well, maybe you should have.”

* * *

It was the first time that I had not returned to the orphanage during the holiday and the castle was eerily quiet. Almost all the students had returned to their homes for the holiday, all of my dormmates included. They had all left last night after promising that the Easter holidays would pass in the blink of an eye and they would soon return to my side. I had believed them but that was before I’d spent the last two hours tossing and turning in an attempt to fall asleep. 

It had all proven futile and I decided that the reason I couldn’t sleep was because the dorm was now too quiet. Over my last six years at Hogwarts I had grown used to the small sounds my dormmates made in their sleep; their breathing lulling me into my own slumber. And now I wasn’t sure I’d be able to sleep without those comforting sounds around me. Helga knew how I would cope when we finally graduated and left this castle. 

The dangerous part about lying awake for hours was that I was left to my thoughts and it was so easy for me to get lost in them, in my memories of a boy with a smile that was reserved for my eyes only. The longer this inability to sleep went on, the more I found myself lost in the person he was – _used to be_. Was there something wrong with me? It had been _years _since I made up my mind to bury the childish crush I’d formed on him. And yet, it had only grown into something I didn’t quite have a label for. And that was so very dangerous.

I sat up quickly, sighing and burrowing my face in my hands. The temptation was too strong – 

Reaching out for my wand, I cast a silent _lumos_ and the room was plunged into light that assaulted my eyes. It took a moment for me to readjust to the light, but when I did, I rose to my feet and crouched beside the trunk at the foot of my bed. Unlocking the trunk, I rummaged through it and found the small box, hidden away at the very bottom of the trunk, shielded from sight by some books. When I had shoved the box into the trunk, I was insistent that if I hid it out of sight, I wouldn’t even _think _about it. Even as I’d rationalised my decision, I knew that I was too weak to resist the temptation. Pushing the books aside, I held the small metal box in my hand and stared at the keyhole for a moment longer. 

Rising to my feet, I went to my bedside table and retrieved the key I stored right at the back of the drawer. It was small, easily lost amongst the clutter and anticipating that I’d attached it to the ancestral necklace the ministry had placed in my care the moment my heritage came to light. The small key slotted into the key hole and I took another moment to reconsider. 

Tom had always had a terrible habit of taking things that didn’t belong to him – stealing, I suppose it could be called. Perhaps that trait of his should have given me the slightest of hints as to what he was truly capable of. But I had been a naïve child, enamoured by him. When I arrived at the orphanage, sometime early in my childhood, so early that I couldn’t remember quite when I arrived, he had been the first person – the first child I’d seen. He had been hiding out of view at the time, peeking at me from the top of the staircase when I saw him. Before I got the chance to take a better look, Mrs Cole had appeared, telling me to follow her as she led me to my room.

When I met the rest of the children at dinner that night, he had been the only one to take any interest in me. Apparently, the arrival of a new child wasn’t that odd of development and the other children just continued with their meals. He had been the first and only one to speak to me and it was no surprise that we soon became friends. My days in the orphanage revolved around him; the boy who rarely smiled and if he did, I was the only one to see it. His smile was my prerogative. 

I would give anything to see that boy return to my side once again. Helga, whenever I looked at him, it was so easy for me to see flickers of the old Tom and my heart would start to beat just a little harder at that. Merlin, I hadn’t seen him smile sincerely in _years, _and I missed the sight of it. But then I’d remember and what was I supposed to do in those moments but turn my back on him?

Shaking my head slightly, I turned my attention back to the small box that was balancing on my knees and unlocked it. It opened to reveal the felt-lined inside of the box and the pressed rose it contained. It was one of Mrs Cole’s that Tom had snagged from her rose bushes – the bushes we weren’t to touch – and he’d gifted it to me for my first birthday in the orphanage. The rose had remained in pristine condition; no sign of wilting or discolouration and now that I was a little older, I knew that it was due to some magic he’d unknowingly used in his youth. 

Placing the pressed rose on my bedside table, I closed the empty box and locked it again. Returning both the key and the box to their places, I clambered back into my bed and used my wand to dim the lights a little. Picking up the book I’d taken to reading in the night, I read it until I felt my eyes begin to grow heavy. Smothering a yawn against my palm, I picked up the pressed rose and slipped it into the book as a bookmark.

I hesitated for a moment, my thumb brushing against one of the petals before I shut the book and returned it to its place on my bedside table. Extinguishing the light in the room, I laid back down on my bed and pulled the blanket up to my chin. I was asleep within minutes. 

* * *

Now that I was of age, the ancient family vaults had finally been transferred through to me and I had been given sole ownership of the Burke Manor and the estate it was on. I had a day full of busy tasks; I would need to stop by the bank to sort out some details before actually visiting the home I had been born in to see if there was anything about it that I wanted to fix up. But truthfully, I just wanted to know what kind of family I had come from. 

So far from the few archives within the castle, I had found out that my family was predominantly Slytherin and appeared to have a history of meddling with the Dark Arts. One of my ancestors was one of the original founders of Borgin and Burkes and according to the owl I received from the bank, money was inputted into the family account once a month from the blasted shop. But I wanted to put an end to that; even if I supposedly owned half of the shop now, I wanted nothing to do with it or the Dark magic surrounding it. The Borgins could buy me out for all I cared. 

Tom had even informed me that in the Slytherin common room there was a portrait of one of my ancestors. An ‘Elizabeth Burke’ who regularly encouraged the students to be ‘mean to Mudbloods’. Horrendous witch. But every part of me wished that my parents were different and that they managed to break away from the family’s apparent love for Dark magic. Helga knew that I couldn’t stand even _thinking _about Dark magic. I hoped that the Manor would have some more information about the pair of them.

I could only wonder if my ancestors could see me now, not only would their muggle hating selves loathe my muggle upbringing, but my completely anti-dark magic stance. Well, the love for dark magic that ran through my family would end with me. 

But before I did anything, I needed to stop by the great hall for an early breakfast, to make sure that I would reach all of my appointments on time. Sitting alone at the Hufflepuff table, I let myself get lost in my book as I ate. Last night I had gotten to an important scene and yet somehow, I had begun to feel tired during it. I was so engrossed in the scene that I didn’t bother to look up to see who had settled themselves across from me, not even when they cleared their throat pointedly. Why were they trying to distract me? I needed to see whether he died!

Relieved of the safety of the hero, I finally lifted my eyes from the page open in front of me and looked to the Slytherin sitting across from me. My eyes widened slightly, and I straightened up in my seat. 

“What are you doing at the Hufflepuff table, Tom?”

“You didn’t return to the orphanage,” he stated although it sounded very much like a question. 

“I’m of age now,” I reminded him quietly, placing my finger in the book to mark my page. “The family Manor is mine now – there’s no reason for me to head back there anymore.”

“And why aren’t you there then?” He arched an eyebrow, pinning me to my seat with his stare as he helped himself to some breakfast. “The _family Manor?_”

I thought for a long moment, wondering which answer to give him. Eventually, I settled for the truth, “It’s doesn’t feel like my home. Not yet, anyway.”

He nodded but said nothing as he watched me in silence for a moment. I held his stare having grown tired of always being the one to look away. And the truly horrible part was that I didn’t fear him. But I should have. I was all too aware of what he was capable of, but I didn’t fear him one bit. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me; he’d always gone out of his way to _protect _me from harm. 

Tom was the first to look away, eyes lowering to the pressed flower that I’d taken to using as a bookmark. And just like that, his eyes were back on mine. 

“You kept it.”

“Really, I have no idea why,” I murmured, clearing my throat. 

“Don’t you?” he pressed, “Or are you simply playing obtuse?” At my continued silence, he raised an eyebrow, “Well I know the answer. I know exactly why.”

“None of this matters,” I said with a sigh, pulling the rose away from him and tucking it safely back in the book.

His eyebrows drew up incredulously, eyes flashing incredulously. “Of course it does.”

“No!” I insistent firmly, “It does _not.”_

“And can I know the reasoning upon which you’ve based such a moronic decision?”

“What you want between us Tom, it can never happen.” He went to argue with my words, but I barrelled on voice firm. “I shall never allow myself to become your Dark Lady or whatever other ridiculous titles you wish to bestow on me.”

“Even my wife?”

“What are you talking about Tom?” I asked with a sigh, crossing my arms. 

“What if I just wanted to make you my wife?”

“Get rid of the Horcruxes,” I said instantly. “Get rid of those and I’ll bind myself to you for the rest of our lives.”

He was silent for a moment, thinking over the words I’d said without much thought. But they were the truth; if he got rid of those horrible Horcruxes then I’d marry him if that was what he wanted. Because it would show a change in him, it would be him returning to being _my Tom._

“And that would be it?” he questioned eventually. “Get rid of them and you’d be mine?”

For a moment, I actually believed him to be serious but then I remembered just who I was talking to. Rolling my eyes, I rose to my feet and snatched my book from the table. 

“Don’t make promises you have no intention of keeping, Tom,” I advised before leaving him seated and walking out of the great hall. 

Before leaving the castle for the day, I made a quick stop by my dorm room and found a potion vial waiting for me on my pillow. It was accompanied by a note written by Professor Slughorn who wrote that the potion was officially a success and before it went into largescale production, he thought it only fair that his assistants got a free vial or two. Realising I was late, I pocketed the potion and hurried out of the room. 

* * *

Once I had sorted out my business at the ministry and the bank, I had decided it best to visit the Manor in an attempt to make myself more comfortable with staying there. However, the moment I had breached the wards of the Manor, a distraught elf had appeared in front of me. She proceeded to introduce herself as Nessie before hurling herself around my legs with a tearful wail. ‘Nessie’ began to speak quickly, her words barely understandable through her tears. 

Apparently, according to Nessie, she had been my nanny elf who had helped my parents raise me – they had been young when they had me; fresh out of Hogwarts. She had also been the one to drop me off at the orphanage under strict orders from my parents who fell under the wrath of Grindelwald. The poor elf was inconsolable, crying over and over again about how she thought she’d never see her ‘young mistress’ again and I hesitated, unsure what to do. 

“Nessie,” I said eventually, sounding more than a little hesitant. “I order you to stop crying.” 

The elf pulled away from me, wiping at her teary eyes and sniffled. “Yes, young mistress.”

“Now,” clearing my throat a little, “can you show me to my room, please?”

“Of course,” she took my hand, leading me up the large double staircase. “If young mistress follows Nessie she’ll see her new rooms – Nessie decorated them herself.”

“I – really?” Merlin, how were you supposed to behave around _your _house-elf? 

Nessie continued to guide me; leading me to the top of the stairs and then turning left. We reached a large wooden door which she pushed open with the snap of her fingers and I stepped hesitantly into the room, casting a curious glance around. 

“It’s beautiful,” I said truthfully. “Thank you, Nessie.”

“Yous welcome, young mistress.” She straightened under my praise and I smiled at the gesture. “I’ll make dinner now –”

“Actually,” I said hesitantly, stopping Nessie in her step. She turned expectantly towards me, smiling widely at me. 

“Yes, young mistress?”

“Are there any photos of my parents around?” Biting my bottom lip, I watched her smile dim a little, but Nessie nodded. 

“Nessie will bring them, young mistress.”

“Thank you.” Remembering the potion vial tucked deep into my pocket, I asked, “Is there a Pensieve in the house?”

“Yes, young mistress. Nessie will be just back.” 

She disappeared from sight with a snap of her fingers and I took one more look around the room. It _was _beautiful, truly. But it was very different to the warmth and homeliness of the Hufflepuff basement. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I reached into my pocket to retrieve the potion vial. The potion we’d been working on would allow you to see into someone’s future and all it needed was a few drops of the potion and either the person’s DNA or their magical imprint. But did I really want to see how everything turned out in the end? 

Placing the vial aside, I looked through the overnight bag I’d brought with me and pulled out my book. Flicking to my bookmarked page, I looked over the pressed rose. This would be enough; his magical print was woven all the way through it. 

Nessie reappeared in the room, startling me and making me look up quickly. “Young mistress! Here are the books and the Pensieve.” 

“Thank you, Nessie,” I said with a grateful smile, taking the photo album from her and levitating the Pensieve onto the desk in the corner of the room. “I’ll see you at the table for dinner.”

Nessie disappeared quickly, and I rose to my feet and headed straight for the Pensieve. Plucking a single petal from the flower, I tipped a few drops of the potion onto the petal before releasing it into the Pensieve. Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself before submerging my head and letting myself find out the truth. 

It was everything I had expected and so much worse. I wasn’t sure how far ahead in time I was seeing but whenever it was, Tom didn’t look like Tom. He looked more snake-like than he did human and the only reason I knew him as Tom was that the boy – a terribly young one with a rather unusual scar on his forehead – addressed him as such. I watched as a bystander, unable to do a thing as both wizards cast a spell and one eventually hit the floor with a final thud. Tom – no Lord Voldemort’s – eyes were still open, even as the life fled his body,

Rearing back from the Pensieve with a gasp, I scrambled blindly for my wand. Raising the tip of my wand to my forehead, I extracted the memory from my mind and stuffed it inside one of the empty potion vials Nessie had had the sense to bring with her. 

It didn’t surprise me just how dangerous Tom could become in the future, but I was rendered speechless to physically see the outcome of his decisions. The destruction Tom left in his wake would be life-changing. Whilst I didn’t feel any fear for _this _Tom – the Tom I’d just seen in the Pensieve had sent a bolt of fear right to my heart. 

But what if there was a way to change it? To save not only him? But countless others as well? 

Only how would I show him? That would need to take some more work on the potion? Or even a spell? Helga, I wasn’t going to let him become such a horrible person and let him die only after causing so much pain to the world. He’d said it himself before; if he had me, he would. It was time to find out whether he meant it or not. 

* * *

Much to Nessie’s disappointment, I returned to Hogwarts the following day. The elf had tried to hide my bags in an attempt to get me to stay longer but I’d caught her in the act and before she could get very far in her self-lamenting, I relented and told her I’d stay until lunch and no longer. And once lunchtime arrived, I had eaten quickly and apparated into Hogsmeade before she could attempt something again. 

After trekking back to the castle, I instantly headed towards the Slytherin dungeon and when I reached the entrance of the common room, I realised one giant problem. I had no idea what the password was. 

I could always wait in the hallway until one of the Slytherins walked by, but Helga knew how long I’d have to wait until then. Turning to return to the Hufflepuff basement, I stopped in my step when I heard the wall slowly move as it opened. I turned around instantly, my eyes drawn to the young Slytherin – probably no older than a third-year – as he stepped out of the common room. His eyes scanned the corridor, settling on me and narrowing slightly. 

“Can I help you?” he asked, crossing his arms and looking me over from head to toe as if I was acting strangely – although, how else would you look at a witch who loitered in the corridor? 

“Is the head boy inside?” I asked, gesturing to the common room. At the younger boy’s nod, I asked hesitantly, “Would you mind getting him for me?”

The boy rolled his eyes. “No offence –”

“Burke,” I supplied when he looked at me questioningly.

“Well, no offence intended _Burke, _but you’re a Hufflepuff – what damage could you possibly do by being let into the common room?” He uncrossed his arms, moving to brush past me. “Just go inside.”

“The password?” I called out after the rather rude boy.

“Pureblood!” he shouted over his shoulder and I tried my very best not to roll my eyes.

_Of course. _

Looking away from the boy, I turned back to the wall that had begun to slowly slide open at the student’s loud announcement of the password. Stepping hesitantly into the darkened passage, I walked slowly towards the Slytherin common room and couldn’t help but wonder at just how different it felt to the Hufflepuff basement. Whilst the Slytherin dungeon was far grander than the Hufflepuff basement was, it didn’t have the aura of warm comfort that ours it. In a way, it reminded me of the Manor that was waiting for my return. All the extravagance to make it live up to the standard of its name and yet no warmth to actually make me consider it my home. 

Perusing the common room, my eyes settled on Tom as he sat on one of the sofas, an open book on his lap. But he wasn’t reading the book, he wasn’t even looking at it. He was staring off into space, clearly lost in his own thoughts and I was slightly reluctant to approach him and break his train of thought. Tom had never appreciated being disturbed whilst he was thinking, and I doubted he would react very well, even if Iwas the one to approach him. But I needed to talk to him. 

Gathering what little courage I had, I walked down the few stairs at the entrance of the common room and the few Slytherin occupants were so busy speaking among themselves that they didn’t even look at me. Crossing the room with small steps, I approached Tom and cleared my throat. He didn’t hear me, and I bit my lip hesitantly and looked him over. His wand was nowhere in sight; good.

Reaching out to snag the book from his lap, I snapped it shut only to throw it back onto his thighs. He winced at the impact, being pulled roughly from his thoughts and looking as though he was planning on cursing out whoever interfered with his business. But his eyes settled on me as I stood in front of him and the curse died on his tongue. He raised an eyebrow, straightening in his seat. 

“Where have you been?” he asked, voice sounding falsely calm. “I searched the entire castle for you. Twice.”

“I spent the night at the Manor,” I confessed, thinking back to the two twin potion vials waiting on the desk in my new bedroom. “I thought it best to go and _see _the place that’s supposed to be my home.”

He nodded, looking back to the book in his lap which he reopened slowly. Tom looked over the page as though it held all his attention, but I knew him better than that. He was still angry, downright furious that I had gone somewhere without informing him. Even as children he had been like that; he needed to know where I was on those rare occasions that I left the orphanage. Helga, he’d always caused a drama in the orphanage if I so much as even _met _with a potential adoptive family.

After seeing the scene he’d put on after the first few meetings, I quickly refused to meet any others. It soon became evident to me that, even if adoptive parents were my only way of leaving the orphanage, it wasn’t worth the fallout with Tom. As a young impressionable girl, I had listened to his words when he promised that the moment he was 18 and out of the orphanage he would marry me and get me out of there too. I had believed his every word, relying on that dream before I outgrew it.

Remnants of his childish anger remained in his behaviour as he clenched his jaw tight, looking up at me and asking pointedly, “Is there any particular reason that you’ve brought yourself here?”

“There’s something I have to show you,” I said quietly, knowing it would pique his curiosity. “You need to come with me tomorrow.”

“_Need_?” he repeated stonily.

“Need,” I said with a nod. “No arguments Tom.”

He regarded me in silence, and I shuffled a little anxiously under his stare. Holding my eyes for a moment longer, Tom gave a single nod and then looked back to the book, pretending to read again. I could practically _see _the wheels in his mind turning. 

* * *

When it was time for Tom and me to leave the school premises, I met the older boy by the doors outside the great hall. He gestured for me to lead the way and I led him silently to the carriage that was waiting for us. Helping me into the carriage, Tom settled himself beside me and the carriage set off instantly.

“Where are we going?” he asked after a few moments of silence.

“Into Hogsmeade,” I said, studying him closely. He pondered over my words closely, wondering whether or not it was worth it to question me any further. “You can’t apparate on the grounds of the school, but we can use the apparition points set up around Hogsmeade.”

His eyebrows rose slightly. “Apparate? How did you get Dippet’s permission for this? Or has my influence rubbed off on you?”

“Apparently,” I began with a roll of my eyes, “being the last member of an ancient pureblood house means something when it really shouldn’t. That was seemingly enough for Dippet to give permission for the pair of us to go offsite.”

“And just where is it that we’re going?”

“That’s enough questions for now, Tom.”

He scowled darkly in my direction, not used to not getting his way with me. In the years within this castle, I’d grown a backbone that I had lacked when we were young. Or would it be more apt to say that I had lost the overwhelming urge I had to gain his approval? During my years at the orphanage I would find myself chasing after Tom, jumping to do his bidding so I could keep his attention; he had been my only friend within the orphanage and I hadn’t wanted to lose him. But if there was one thing I’d learnt over the last few years, it was that I _couldn’t _lose him. He wouldn’t let that happen. 

Once the carriage came to a stop, I clambered off before Tom could offer me his hand and began to walk towards one of the apparition points. He followed a short distance behind me, _still _annoyed at my resistance. But, when I offered him my arm, he held onto it without a word and allowed me to apparate him away. 

Breaching the wards of the Manor, I pulled away from Tom and turned expectantly to where I knew Nessie would be waiting the moment she detected my magic. Casting a glance at Tom, I watched as he scanned his new surroundings with cool judgement before meeting my eyes. 

“Burke Manor?”

“Home, apparently,” I murmured, turning my attention back to Nessie who looked ready to cry _again. _

“Young Mistress!” she wailed, approaching me hurriedly with large steps. “Young mistress is back! Nessie thought –”

“Nessie!” I cut in with a sternness that I had learned was necessary when it came to stopping her from becoming a puddle of tears. “_Please, _don’t cry or else I’ll leave right away.”

“No mistress! Young mistress mustn’t –”

“I’ve brought a guest with me,” I said speaking over the elf who looked like she was going to begin to cry again. Helga, how long would it take for me to learn how to talk to her? 

Nessie, suddenly realising that I wasn’t the other wizard in the room, turned her large eyes onto Tom. She approached him slowly, walking around him in a large circle and Tom, for his part just looked curiously towards her. 

Stopping suddenly, Nessie turned her eyes to me. “The new young master?”

“_No!_ He’s a friend of mine Nessie – Tom Riddle. We’re going to stay for lunch so –”

“Nessie will make lunch for young mistress and her riddle,” Nessie complied with a smile, disappearing with a click of her fingers. 

Left alone with Tom, I turned to meet his waiting eyes and smiled apologetically. “From what I’ve gathered, she’s always been a rather emotional elf.”

He accepted the statement at face value and cast another glance around the entryway. “This is what you would have been brought up in; this wealth and status.”

“Frankly I’m not sure what to do with any of it,” I admitted rolling my eyes. 

Tom furrowed his eyebrows, his mouth turning down and I tried not to wince. His lack of status – his _father’s _lack of status in the wizarding world had always been something he abhorred. He hated his name, claiming it one of the most common English names around and I could only wonder how he took my blatant dislike for all the things I had; they were all the things he’d ever wanted. 

Before he could bring a biting remark to his lips, I held out my hand for his and he stared at it in surprise, wondering if it truly meant what he thought. He brought his eyes up to mine and I gestured for him to go ahead and slip his hand into mine. 

He did so after another few seconds of careful consideration and I held tightly onto his hand. Leading him by the hand to my room, I watched his expressions closely as he looked around the room with a carefully maintained neutrality. He hovered in the doorway of the bedroom and I tugged him inside after me.

“I think I can trust you with my virtue,” I teased, bringing a small smile to his face. “When we were at the orphanage, we’d often share a bed Tom.”

“I’ve long since stopped being that seven-year-old boy you allowed into your bed,” he reminded me with a look that had my cheeks heating. “The way I think about you has changed too.”

And, though I really shouldn’t have, I asked, “And how do you think of me now?”

“As mine,” he said simply, allowing me to lead him to my desk where the Pensieve was waiting. I settled him down into the chair and the moment his eyes settled onto the waiting Pensieve, he cast a doubtful glance in my direction.

“The reason I brought you here is because I wanted to show you some memories,” I admitted quietly, licking my bottom lip. “I – I used the potion we created with Slughorn and this is what I saw.”

He regarded me with sudden curiosity and I summoned the two potions vials from my bedside table. Fingering the first vial, I hesitated for a moment before handing it to him. Tom held my eyes for a long moment before pulling the lid from the vial. Tipping the memory into the Pensieve he submerged his head and I settled down on my bed, waiting. 

Tom reared back from the Pensieve with a gasp, pushing it away from him. I rose to my feet, watching cautiously as he stood on shaking legs and gripped the back of the chair tightly as if to stay upright.

“Tom,” I called out concerned, coming to his side.

He held up a hand to halt me. “What was that?” he questioned although he knew the answer.

“Your future,” I said truthfully, swallowing nervously as I continued to speak slowly. “If you continue down this line of Dark Magic, then this is what will happen to you – what you’ll become. I won’t stand by you if you this is what you choose, no matter how hard you try to shackle me to your side.”

He wasn’t ready to believe it and shook his head firmly. “_No. _You expect me to believe that _despite _the creation of my Horcruxes, that –”

“Yes,” I insisted, cutting him off. “We both worked on this potion, side by side. You know just as well as I do that it’s as close to faultless as humanly possible.”

“That _thing _was me,” he whispered, struggling for words as he lowered himself back into the chair, eyes falling to the ground.

I nodded, the action lost on him as he sat lost in his thoughts. He didn’t maintain his silence for long though. I watched his grip on the back of the chair tighten until the wood splintered beneath his fingers and he looked up suddenly, meeting my gaze with angry, _furious _eyes. 

“Why show me any of this in the first place?” he demanded heatedly, voice thunderous. “If I’m destined to end up as such a beast then you should have left me unaware of that fact! You shouldn’t have showed me any of that because now, all I can think of is hunting down that boy with the scar.”

“You just don’t get it!” I exclaimed loudly, silencing him in one go. “The number of people you kill, the number of lives you end up _ruining _Tom, in this quest for power – it’s abhorrent.” 

I fiddled awkwardly with the second vial that I’d been holding onto this entire time and crossed the space between us. Uncorking the vial, I poured the contents of the vial into the Pensieve before explaining quietly. 

“This one took some intense spell work,” I said meeting his eyes, “but I eventually managed to get it working. This is what happens if you change your mind, Tom.”

Eventually his curiosity got the better of him and Tom looked back into the Pensieve to see what the new memory was that I wanted him to see. He remained inside this one for longer, so long that I wondered if he had no plan of returning to me. But he did eventually sit back up, looking more troubled now that he’d seen the second memory. Of course, he wasn’t as visible traumatised as he had been for the first time, but this second one had shaken him on the inside. 

“What,” he struggled to finish his sentence and cleared his throat. “What will it take for me to get there? For _us _to get there?”

“I’m a pureblood debutant with too much money and status to a name I wasn’t sure I ever really wanted,” I informed him steadily. “I’d be willing to pump the money, the status, whatever you want into your career Tom, if you just – _just _get rid of those Horcruxes.” 

His eyes lowered to the ground, lost in thought and deeply troubled by my words. I crouched down in front of him, meeting his lowered eyes. 

“Get rid of them,” I pleaded quietly, “get rid of them and become _my _Tom again. Let me save you the same way you saved me so many times in the orphanage.”

He reached out, cupping my cheek with gentle eyes and I tried to read his eyes. But it was impossible. 

* * *

It was at the beginning of the final term of the year that I next heard news of Tom. 

Upon returning back to the castle from Burke Manor, Tom had turned and walked away from me without giving me a second glance. That had been the last I had heard from him and I had come to terms with the fact that I’d failed and done nothing more than alert Tom to the wizard who would soon become his downfall. Helga, I had created a bigger mess than there would have been originally. Perhaps it would have been better for me to keep the knowledge to myself?

Did I really expect to have been able to change him? He was _Tom; _the most stubborn person I had ever met. He didn’t change unless there was something in it for him. And really, what had I offered him in return? Myself? Merlin, as if that was worth it. The man had women falling at his feet, what did it matter if I wasn’t one of them?

“Did you hear the news?” Zoe asked, bringing me from my thoughts. 

“News?” I repeated, sharing a look with Annie before I reached for the teapot. 

“The hospital wing has had a surprise admission,” she explained as I stirred some sugar into my tea. “Our head boy has somehow landed himself in there.”

The spoon clattered against my teacup, making Zoe look at me in concern. Dismissing the look of concern quickly, I cleared my throat. Was that why I hadn’t heard from him? Had he been stuck in the hospital wing and I hadn’t known anything about his condition?

Raising my tea cup to my lips, I asked quietly, “Is there any news about _why _he ended up in there?”

“No one knows,” Zoe admitted with a shrug. “Whatever it is, it’s been kept secretly between his dormmates.”

“Speaking of his dormmates,” Annie piped up. “Have you seen Malfoy and Avery’s new interest in politics? The bloody snakes are –”

Annie didn’t get far in her words before she looked to her watch and cursed quietly. The pair of them were running late and I watched, still seated as they hurried away to their first lesson of the day. My first period of the day was a free period and I pondered over whether to use the hour to visit Tom in the hospital wing. But would he want me to go and see him?

My eyes strayed across the great hall to the Slytherin table and more specifically on his dormmates who were busy talking amongst themselves. They moved to rise to their feet and I found myself doing the same. Without knowing it, my feet were carrying me towards them quick enough to intercept them. 

“Miss Burke?” Malfoy asked, stepping away from his friends when he saw my approach. 

“I – is he alright?” I asked eventually, meeting grey eyes head-on. 

“He will be,” he answered unhelpfully, and I hesitated for another moment, unsure what to say. He took pity on me, clearing his throat to say, “You should go visit him. I believe he’s waiting for you.”

“I – Thank you,” I said genuinely, drawing away from the Slytherin seventh year. 

Hurrying through the castle, I wondered briefly whether it would be considered impolite if I turned up to visit him without having brought him anything? But what was I supposed to give someone when I didn’t know what was wrong with them? Deciding against it, I took the quickest route to the hospital wing and kept an eye out for the matron who seemed to be out for the moment. 

Stepping cautiously into the hospital wing, I looked at each of the occupied beds for any sign of him and found him in one of the beds on the left. Although, he looked like he was asleep? Would it be better for me to come back later? But I’d come all this way to see him – 

Walking slowly towards Tom, I found him lying on his back, eyes closed. As if sensing my presence, he opened his eyes and turned towards me. He watched me in silence for a moment and I was struck by how pale he looked – more so than normal. 

“I was wondering when you would decide to come and see me,” he remarked quietly, watching as I hovered awkwardly by the end of his bed. 

“What happened?” I questioned, looking over him with worried eyes. 

He sighed, turning his eyes back to the ceiling. “I had already known that it would hurt – but I didn’t even think it would be quite as excruciating.”

I frowned, not quite understanding his words and walking closer to him. Coming to the top of the bed, I made no attempt to resist the temptation and instead reached out to brush his dark hair away from his damp forehead. Frowning, I pressed my hand to his forehead to find that he had a fever.

“What are you talking about Tom?” I asked quietly, putting my bag down on the chair beside his bed and reaching for the towel that was soaking on the bedside table. 

Wringing the excess water from the towel, I applied the cold compress to his forehead. His hand reached out to catch my wrist, startling me and bringing my eyes to his. He was waiting for me to realise something, to notice something and it was then that I looked to the hand holding my wrist. 

His ring. Where was his ring? 

“What did you do with it?” I asked as he released his hold on me and let me place the towel properly on his forehead. 

Satisfied, I settled down on the chair and waited for his answer. The only answer he gave me was a look that told me that he was wondering if he’d overestimated my intelligence. But he took pity on me, sighing slightly and turning until he was resting on his side. The towel on his forehead came unstuck and I tutted, reaching out to hold it against him properly.

“There’s only the diary left,” he informed me steadily, eyes on mine so he could see the way they widened comically in shock. The corner of his mouth rose into a warm smile – the one I hadn’t seen in years. His real smile. 

Helga, if that smile didn’t have my heart racing in my chest. And perhaps it was a very late realisation, but I loved this man. For all his faults – of which there were _many – _I loved him anyway. And I loved him more because he’d come to the right decision. 

“Once I’ve recovered I’ll set about destroying that one too.”

“You really did it,” I murmured, smiling widely. I could think of no other person in my life who would forsake his life goal, give up everything to get me to remain by his side. 

Tom groaned suddenly, making me think that he was in pain. Except he wasn’t. He just narrowed his eyes at me and grumbled, “You’re not going to do something stupid like cry, are you?”

“Of course not,” I snapped. Although my eyes _were _suspiciously moist. 

I sniffled and watched as he sighed, rolling his eyes and holding out a hand towards me. Taking it between both of mine, I clutched it close to me and held his eyes for a long moment. The teasing irritation fled from his eyes and I watched them grow serious. 

“What is it?” he whispered quietly. 

“Nothing,” I insisted, shaking my head and forcing myself to laugh slightly. “Although, I can only imagine how Nessie will react when you finally walk into the Manor as the new Young Master.”


	2. Epilogue: 12 Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Tom Marvolo Riddle-Burke, Minister of Magic. _

_12 YEARS LATER_

No matter how often I made this trek through the ministry, it would continue to feel as odd as it did the first time. As I passed the employees seated at their desks, I continued to insist that there was no need for them to rise to their feet to greet me – greet _us. _Really, they could simply carry on with their work and pay no attention to me, but they refused to listen to those words. 

Continuing through the ministry towards Tom’s office, I cast a glance at the woman seated at the desk just outside my husband’s office. The older witch, busy with the paperwork that littered her desk, glanced upwards as I cleared my throat. 

Before she could do the same as her colleagues and rise to her feet, I asked, “Is he in?”

“The minister’s currently handling some important matters with the muggle Prime Minister,” she admitted hesitantly and paused slightly, clearly remembering the reason she was currently seated in her position. 

Tom’s last secretary – a witch who I was _certain _was trying and failing to steal my husband from me – had claimed that Tom was too busy for guest and had made me wait outside until he was free. Tom himself emerged from the office not even 10 minutes later and upon seeing his _heavily _pregnant wife waiting outside, he had promptly dismissed the witch. No one thought to question the unlawful firing of his assistant and I had felt too smug to stand up for me. Merlin, Tom was rubbing off on me. 

“On second thought,” she said slowly. Gesturing towards the shut door. “Why don’t you head right in?”

“Thank you,” I said with a smile, brushing past her desk and adding, “Congratulations on your new engagement.”

“Oh! Thank you!” she called out after my back as colour rushed to her cheeks.

With a smile, I pushed the door to Tom’s office open hesitantly and peered around the door slightly to see if he was busy. He didn’t appear to be. Sitting at his desk with his head pressed against the back of his chair, Tom had his eyes closed for a few moments of rest. I was tempted to leave Tom to his peace because if I didn’t know just how stressful these last few months for Tom had been, then who else would? 

He lifted his head from his seat before I could act on my thoughts and the moment his eyes settled on me, he was smiling, and all signs of fatigue eased out of his features. Silently, he gestured for me to approach him and I went to his side, letting him take my hand and lift it to his mouth. 

“Where are the boys?” he asked, looking around his office and realising that I was alone.

“Running amuck somewhere,” I said rolling my eyes. “They were getting rowdy at home and wanted to see you. I’m sure once they’ve gotten as many sweets as they can from the doting ministry employees, they’ll eventually be led back here.” 

My eyes softened, staring down at my husband; one of the youngest Ministers of Magic in the history of the wizarding world. And maybe, when Tom had begun to focus on his political career I should have told him to give it a couple of years. Balancing the responsibilities of the entire wizarding world was bound to be too much for any one person to handle, but he didn’t complain. As if he could read my thoughts – and I didn’t doubt that he could – Tom dropped my hand to wrap his arm around my waist and pulling me towards him. I stood a little awkwardly pressed against the armrest of his chair, but I remained without a word as he furrowed his face against my stomach and took deep soothing breaths. Running my fingers through his hair, I cast a glance to the name plaque on his desk. 

_Tom Marvolo Riddle-Burke, Minister of Magic. _

One night during the few remaining days of the run-up to our wedding, Tom had asked which surname I was planning on using after marriage. At first I believed him to be joking because I would be taking his, _surely. _But a short discussion revealed that he was against the idea because he didn’t want any remaining connection to the man who had abandoned his duty to his wife and unborn child. Except _I _also felt no connection to my surname. Despite my attempts to try and become a Burke, I couldn’t. Neither of us felt like part of the families that our surnames supposedly linked us to. 

There was one thing we knew for certain; I was his and he was mine. There was no doubt to that and the double surname had been Tom’s rather unconventional suggestion. This way we would form our own family in all sense of the word. There were no expectations based upon a surname and we were just simply the beginning of hopefully, a long line of wizards. 

Upon leaving Hogwarts, Tom had accepted one of the multiple Ministry positions offered to him and had moved into the Manor, occupying his own wing until we decided it best to marry once I graduated from Hogwarts. During our year apart, Tom worked his way up the ranks slowly but the moment he bound himself to me, acquiring the promotions suddenly became _much _easier for him. One weekend as he sat on the sofa, reading a newspaper whilst I sat on the other side with my feet in his lap, he had commented on how fickle purebloods were when it came to status. I had simply looked up from my own book to remind him that he’d bound himself to one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and he muttered that my marrying a half-blood might have made the Burke family lose that status. And that was fine with me, as I had made it my goal to abolish the connected the Burke family had to Dark Magic.

But regardless of this seeming loss in status, Tom _had _managed to ‘snatch up’ the last remaining member of one of the oldest wizarding families and the ministry officials suddenly couldn’t get enough of him. He was very popular amongst his superiors who eagerly pushed for him as Minister, but it was the support of the general public that got him to where he was. They saw in him a man who, though a little cold, would lead wizarding Britain towards a brighter future and within months of stepping into office, he accomplished things that other ministers had only talked about in their campaign speeches. 

Of course, that was because he faced little opposition; most of Tom’s former minions had also settled themselves into their high positions in the ministry. And with most of the top positions occupied by men still loyal to him, there was little for Tom to worry about. The occasional opposition he _did _face, somehow disappeared without a trace but no one felt the need to question it. Above all, he was a good minister. Regardless of what methods he used to get his results. 

There was a knock on the door and Tom grumbled against my stomach, having dropped off slightly during his rest. He straightened up in his seat, forcing himself out from the early stages of slumber and looking towards the door. As I went to step away from him, he reached out for my hand, holding me against his side. 

“Come in.”

The door was pushed open, revealing the face of his secretary who was holding the door open for Tom’s _very important_ guests. My sons – practically carbon copies of their father, walked into the room with an air of importance which just told me that they were going to have the most horrendous egos when they grew up. They walked into the room wearing that mysterious smirk that really belonged on their father’s face, but they’d learned it after studying one of his speeches. 

“I believe you’ve forgotten something,” I called out, eyes on the seven-year-old and three-year-old who stopped guiltily in their steps.

Glancing back to Tom’s secretary with winning smiles, they thanked her for bringing them to their father’s office and then ran to said father. Our youngest son, Edward, crawled instantly into Tom’s lap whilst my eldest son, Alexander, hovered by his father’s side because he was ‘simply too old’ to be held by his parents. 

I stood off to the side, watching my boys talk and catch up about their day when suddenly, Alexander spoke up. “Lucius is getting a new sister – are we going to get one too?”

“Where did you even hear that?” I asked incredulously, shaking my head. 

“When Mrs Malfoy joined you for tea, last weekend,” my son answered steadily, and Tom turned to me with raised eyebrows. 

“Abraxas has no idea?” he guessed, and I nodded slowly, watching as Edward began to play with his father’s tie. Our conversation meant nothing to him; even _if _his best friend was getting a new sister.

“Well?” Alexander looked between me and his father. “Are we going to get one?”

“You see,” Tom began steadily, “little sisters take a long time to get, Alex. You’ll have to be patient if you want one.”

“Only if _you _give birth to the next one,” I added pointedly when Tom turned his falsely innocent eyes towards me. “Otherwise, that’s not going to happen.”

“Don’t listen to your mother,” Tom said to Alexander who frowned heavily at my refusal. Helga, Tom was spoiling the pair of them by giving them whatever they wanted at the drop of a hat. And as he was Minister, he could fulfil even their most ridiculous demands. “Once I’ve sorted out this business; I’ll make getting you a little sister my biggest priority.”


End file.
